For the Love of a Redhead
by theflawintheplan
Summary: Mandark, in another scheme attempt, decides to woo Dexter. Slash. Dexdark, maybe limes in later chapters. Please read and review.
1. The Plan

Mandark sat at his desk in his room, thinking about his rival Dexter. He was supposed to have been in bed hours ago, but the annoyingly ingenious redhead had crept into his mind. The one who he could never defeat; the one who, for some strange reason, Mandark could still not stop thinking about at the moment....Maybe he could sneak into Dexter's lab again and programme his inventions to attack and kill him...? No, he had already tried that four weeks ago with disastrous results. Mandark frowned as he fingered the singed hem of his cape-a warning from Dexter not to come into his lab. (Who knew the boy worked late at night?)

Dragging his hands through his jet black hair, Mandark considered his options. He could always a) let it go and hope to beat Dexter with his own skill, b) stop being evil and actually team up with Dexter for the benefit of the entire world, c) try another one of his many plans that involved sneaking into a certain ginger's laboratory, or d) try to somehow get Dee Dee to join him in his quest for evil and get her to kill her own brother.

While the first two did not appeal to the raven _at all_, the last two did not seem like something he could succeed at, let alone work to his advantage. Thus, the evil spawn of hippies remained at his desk in the dark, musing how to get rid of his most hated opponent. After a long while of thinking and reasoning out his plans in his head, Mandark remembered something that would ultimately alter his "destiny".

"Of course," he whispered in the slightly nasally voice he had had since childhood. "It's been right there in front of me the entire time. How could I not have seen it?"

The "it" he was referring to was in fact the relationship Dexter had with a random male peer. (The younger boy had come out as gay in the sixth grade.) It had ended horribly for a reason only the couple-and Mandark's nosy little sister-knew about. The redhead had stopped working on his lab and experiments for ten months-and that had been for a milder form of heartbreak. Imagine what his reaction would be to a relationship he thought would last much longer than the previous one had. All Mandark had to do was get Dexter to believe he cared for him and when Dexter was deeply attached, break his heart, sending him into a wild depression. The raven boy eased a cruel smirk onto his face.

Tomorrow was Monday, hopefully meaning Dexter's first day back after getting over an illness and the first day of the second quarter. It was then he would take his plan into effect.

~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~

"Dexter? Can you answer the question?"

Even though he had not been paying attention, the redhead only barely glanced at the board before saying in a slightly bored tone, "Sodium Oxide."

His Chemistry teacher looked disappointed-she liked to make examples of students, especially those who were exceptionally talented, who were not listening to the lecture. "Yes Dexter, you're exactly right. Now who can name this element combination...?" Miss Lawson's voice faded into the background as the raven silently studied Dexter. No one would have been able to miss two weeks of class, only to come back and not listen to the teacher and still be exactly right when answering the question they did not hear. No one, that is, except Dexter and himself.

Mandark glared at the crimson head ahead of him. How could Dexter afford to be so laid back in an AP class? Even Mandark had to work it a bit. The shorter boy was probably going to be the college student that was every professor's wet dream....

_Brring!_

The school bell interrupted Miss Lawson's speech on the "happy" elements and all her students flooded through the classroom door into the hallway. Mandark quickly gathered his things and practically ran to join his class, ignoring his teacher's cries to slow down. Thankfully Dexter did not have any friends, so Mandark did not waste any time in dragging him away down the hallway, through the front doors, and around the side of the school building toward the dumpsters. The young boy was struggling the entire way, so when Mandark let him go, he glared at the taller boy and tried to get past, only to have the raven hold him in his spot.

"Dexter, I have to tell you something."

Dexter may have looked skeptical, but Mandark was not sure. "Here?" He questioned Mandark in an almost American accent. (Over the years, the smaller boy had been losing his Russian accent until it was almost nonexsistent.)

"It had to be in private." Mandark snapped defensively. Immediately he cringed, knowing this was not the way to make the boy in front of him believe he liked him.

If Dexter noticed this action, he did not say so. "It couldn't wait until after school or something?"

"I couldn't wait." Mandark tried to make his voice sound desperate and anxious. "Please Dexter, let me talk."

Dexter seemed to have an inner battle between his common sense and his curiosity. Curiosity won.

"What do you want?"

"I...I want you, Dexter."

"Excuse me?" Delicate eyebrows rose to his forehead.

"I think I like you, Dexter...I...think I may even love you." Mandark was pretty proud of the almost pleading quality he managed to put into his voice. Dexter would have to go out with him now, what with Mandark's great performance. Besides, there were not very many guys in the school willing to go out with an intellectual gay boy.

"You _think_? You haven't tried to find out for sure?" Dexter's skepticism was now evident in his tone.

"Well, I..." Mandark trailed off in feigned despair. "I'm pretty sure...." He finally whispered. This acting was working out better than he thought it would. To his surprised pleasure, Dexter sauntered up to him.

"So you want to...test it out? Is that what you're asking for?" He peered up at Mandark through half-lidded eyes, his voice barely louder than the raven's last sentence. The addressed teen swallowed hard and suddenly lost all control of his "great performance" and voice.

"I-I, uh...I would l-like to, yes."

Dexter's eyes snapped open and they were filled with delighted malice. "I'm not interested in being a test subject." He brushed past the raven boy who seemed to be rooted in shock. When Mandark finally got over the initial surprise, he ran around the corner to see Dexter heading toward the school doors. He managed to grab the redhead before he could go inside.

"You don't feel the same?" Mandark demanded angrily, twisting the younger boy to face him again.

Dexter fixed the older teen with another glare, this one nearly able to melt everything in acid that it came in contact with. "No I don't, because quite frankly Mandark, I could and would not like someone I've disliked as long as you." He shook off the ebony-haired boy's grip on his shoulder and walked inside without looking back.

Mandark felt something akin to the defeat he had experienced so many times before in situations concerning the redhead, but this time it seemed to go deeper. It was not only the loss of causing Dexter always thought he was right. Mandark's eyes grew even darker, staring at the diminishing figure still walking down the hall toward his second-to-last class.

He would make the ginger fall for him _and_ break his heart before the quarter was over. He would not lose this time.

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

A/N: Okay guys, I'm sorry, but I haven't seen the show in years and my computer's being retarded. Translation: My computer won't allow me to view the Dexter's Laboraboratory episodes when I try to so....I hope my remembrance of the characters' personalities and interactions is still pretty solid.

Please review and let me know how I did on the first chapter! XD (Please?)

~theflawintheplan


	2. The First Step

Dexter awoke to large blue eyes staring at him unblinkingly. This sight no longer surprised him though, and perhaps that thought was the scariest thing Dexter had ever experienced.

'Besides Mandark's talk with me yesterday.' Dexter thought before he could stop himself. It would not be a good day if Mandark was in his head....That's probably what the bastard had wanted to achieve by that conversation-a way to distract the redhead from his work, letting the raven menace take the lead in their rivalry. It certainly was a childish plan, something Mandark would have easily come up with.

"GOOD MORNING DEXTER!" His older sister Dee Dee screamed. Dexter flinched away before shooting daggers at her, but that was the only reaction she received as she pushed toward his bedroom door.

"Go away Dee Dee, I have important work to do." While not untrue, the impaitent words were more habit now than an actual command.

"You mean getting ready for school?" Dee Dee asked, confused.

"Yes, and getting a little more on the northeast side of the laboratory installed....And you are not to go in there, do you understand? If you have the urge, go...buy some eggs or something. _Leave my things alone._"

Dee Dee quickly made an "X" over her heart. "I promise Dexter, I won't touch anything that's yours." Her little brother scanned her eyes with his own, looking for any sign she would not keep her word. Apparently satisfied, Dexter nodded and shut the door, going to get dressed for school.

~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~

Going downstairs some fifteen minutes later, Dexter found a bouquet of orange roses at the center of the kitchen table. Dee Dee was admiring them with a stupid grin.

"What is this, Dee Dee?" He sighed.

She snapped to attention and seeing her brother in the kitchen doorway, squealed happily.

"Flowers!"

Another sigh. "Yes, I can see that. Who are they from?"

"Mandark."

"What? When?"

"This morning, while you were upstairs." Dee Dee sighed also, but this was a joyful gesture.

Dexter gaped disbelievingly at the roses and then at his sister. Did she not realize this was all somehow tied to a plot by an idiotic boy who refused to lose?

"Why do you think he would do that, Dee Dee?" He asked carefully. If she figured out the motive behind the beautiful gift herself, she would be less likely to burst into hysterics. But she only shrugged.

"I don't know," she confessed, "but Dexter, this is so romantic! I always knew you two deserved each other! I mean, obviously _I _didn't like him!" Another excited squeal escaped her lips. Now she began to speak more to herself than to her baby sibling. "Of course, there will have to be wedding arrangements and..."

Dexter was about to be sick. Married to Mandark? No, that would never happen. Mandark was too...well, the list was too long to even think about.

"Dee Dee, that will never happen."

"The baby's room will be pink, but-" the blonde girl blinked and cut herself off. "What?"

"I'm not interested in Mandark. Never have been, never will be."

Tears. "But Dexter-"

Dexter had closed his eyes, so he was unable to see his sister's reaction. "Yes, it's quite sad," he said in the clipped tones he usually used with Dee Dee. "So sad in fact, that there will be no tears shed for him on my part. Now please, I'm leaving for school now. Watch the house for Mom and Dad."

Dee Dee answered in a choked voice. "Of course Dexter, whatever you say."

Sighing, Dexter briefly embraced his sister in a hug meant to give her hurried comfort. Then he walked out the door, grabbing his school books and papers. He never really used a bag or backpack-they hurt his shoulders after everything was placed inside.

When he finally arrived at the school, the image of the flowers on the table came back to his mind. Why was Mandark so resilient to Dexter's refusal? The redhead knew he would not change his own mind. Was the other boy so pathetic that he could not see that fact? Dexter made a mental note to talk to Mandark sometime during the school day to tell him, once again, that he was not interested in him.

He entered the building and made it to his locker without incident. He breathed a sigh of relief and quickly put everything except his Biology book and a few sheets of paper inside the small space before him. Suddenly two arms placed themselves on either side of Dexter and even though they were pencil thin, they were deadly efficient in holding him in place. The genius tried to hide the shaky breath he drew.

"How did you like the flowers?" _His_ voice crooned in Dexter's ear..._this_ was currently the scariest thing the redhead had ever experienced.

"I hate them. Orange roses-what kind of gift was that?" Despite his efforts, a quiet laugh sounded in his ear, making him shudder with disgust...and something quite different. He was not sure what this feeling was though, so he chose not to dwell on it.

"Do you know the meaning behind orange roses?" Mandark's nearly icy breath ghosted across Dexter's right ear and neck.

"You know, I do not usually track the meaning of flowers, but somehow I know the meaning behind that particular breed. I have to ask why you did not opt for the red roses since they both mean the same thing and the red flowers are used the most often."

Another laugh, this one even quieter though they were the only ones left in the hallway. "Dexter, red roses have a romantic love behind their meaning. And while I love you, I chose orange because they signal," he paused to place a light kiss behind the shell of the redhead's ear, earning another shiver, "desire."

And Dexter abruptly found himself alone at his locker as the tardy bell rang.

~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~

Miss Garrett looked down her nose at Dexter as she handed him daily assignment.

"Being gone for two weeks on a sick leave does _not_ excuse a tardy, Dexter." She set her lips into a hard line. Dexter sunk a little in his seat when he hoped no one was watching him, but dark blue eyes glittered with amusement. Mandark loved it when Dexter felt humiliated.

_'That's why I'm going to enjoy ripping his heart apart. For once he'll be the one who lost in utter humiliation.'_ The raven teen thought joyously. He quickly set to work on more ways he could woo his way into the redhead's fragile love.

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

A/N: I already know this chapter is pretty pathetic and I **EPICALLY** failed at it, but what else you think? Too fast, too slow, just right? Are the characters (namely Dee Dee) still interacting like they should? Please help me here and I promise the third chapter will be out faster.

Also, I need more ideas on how to woo an unwoo-able genius....Any help there? It would be appreciated! XD

TTFN (tata for now),

~theflawintheplan


	3. Dee Dee Joins the Game

Dee Dee sat on the couch as she contemplated Dexter's extreme dislike for his rival. She knew they belonged together, and obviously Mandark felt the same, so how could her brother not see something as simplistic as love? Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud grumbling noise and she looked at stomach in surprise.

"My stomach's hungry. I need food if I'm going to continue thinking about this." She floated into the kitchen and grabbed a pear, biting into the juicy fruit as she continued considering Dexter's plight. She wanted her darling little brother to be happy. Didn't he want the same thing? She walked across to one of the kitchen's many drawers as she suddenly remembered she did not like the skin on fruits. Opening the knife drawer, she peered inside and an empty space greeted her turquoise eyes. The light-colored orbs drifted to the staircase that was just around the corner from the kitchen doorway. Perhaps Dexter had a knife or something like it...?

She shook her head vigorously, muttering to herself. "No, Dexter told me not to go into his room. I bet he would know if I went up there." A devil version of herself appeared on her right shoulder.

"**He wouldn't know, he's gone, remember?**" Dee Dee considered this as the angelic half her conscience poofed to her left side.

"_Dexter trusts you,_" she stated in her sweet voice. "_Don't advantage of the one time he left you alone in the house._"

"**You see? He **_**wants**_** you to go in there. People say not to do something so that you **_**will**_** do it. Understand?**"

Dee Dee did understand so, despite the angel's high-pitched protests about finding a knife in the dishwasher, she padded out of the kitchen, up the stairs, and down the hall to Dexter's bedroom door.

_'I'll pop in, look for a knife, pop out and that'll that. No buttons, no distractions.'_ She told herself. She reached for the knob, time seemingly slowing down. She twisted the small circular piece of metal, surprised when it didn't turn the entire way.

What was wrong with the door?

~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~

Dexter whistled a merry tune as he walked home from school. Mandark had left him alone the rest of the day, he had managed to avoid detention, and best of all....He smiled, touching the key in his coat pocket. He had guessed that his sister would try to get into his lab, so he had made a special doorknob spray that would automatically lock the door whenever someone other than himself tried to enter. There were still some problems however (the door remained locked even at Dexter's touch), hence the key.

"Dexter!"

The addressed redhead barely contained his sigh. Well, the loneliness was good while it lasted.

"Dexter, wait up!"

"What do you want, Mandark? Trying to follow me home?"

"Actually, I was going over to your house to see Dee Dee. I heard she was back in town." Mandark said with some snarkiness. He just hoped Dexter was playing hard to get like he had for his ex-boyfriend.

Dexter raised his eyebrows, feeling some type of negative emotion, something strangely akin to...jealousy? No, that could not possibly be it, so he settled for filing it under "Anger" even though that wasn't quite what he was feeling.

"Well, you shouldn't believe everything you hear. Besides, why would you need to talk to her?"

Mandark smirked, but he didn't answer as he took longer strides toward the redhead's house, soon leaving the shorter boy in the distance.

When he finally arrived at his destination, he rapped on the door and impatiently waited until the piece of wood swung forward. To his surprise, the blonde girl who answered the door smiled upon seeing his face.

_'Does she finally realise her feelings for me?'_ Mandark asked himself giddily, feeling his heartbeat quicken.

_'Mandark! He'll help me help Dexter to knowing he likes him!'_ Dee Dee was a little confused by the wording of her own thought, but she smiled wider anyway. "Would you like to come in?" She asked, stepping back to allow him room to enter. The boy nodded and cautiously stepped into the house, fully expecting Dee Dee to suddenly laugh and take back her invitation.

She didn't.

"So Mandark, what brings you to my...humble abode?" She asked, fighting to remain calm while she really wanted to squeal with excitement.

"Well, I..." Mandark swallowed, trying to gather his thoughts as he conversed with this modern goddess. _'Say something, you idiot!'_

"Dex...ter," he told her with a dreamy smile on his face. Not exactly the name that he wanted to bring into their conversation, but it had to be done. He just hoped it made sense to Dee Dee. To his happy fortune, she smiled even wider then before and stood, going over the kitchen table and fluffing the orange roses that were placed lovingly at the center. Mandark had to wonder which one of the siblings had handled the flowers with such care. Though, considering the hostility levels from Dexter, the raven concluded that it was Dee Dee and his heart swelled to know she cared about _his_ gift.

"I was hoping you would say that, but he's not here right now. You'll have to come back later."

"Actually I came to see you." Dee Dee's eyes narrowed in suspicion, so Mandark quickly elaborated.

"I came because of _Dexter_, but I came to see _you_. You see, your brother won't talk to me unless it's condescending or with hatred," Dee Dee nodded knowingly, "so I was wondering if you'd help me out."

The blonde girl waved her hand at the table, gesturing for him to sit while she thought.

"Well...Dexter likes chocolate, especially 100 Grand." **(1)** Mandark almost wrote that down, but Dee Dee's next sentence stopped him cold. "But he hasn't even looked at a single bar since he broke with...whatever his name was. He gave Dexter a chocolate bar every day." She finished. Her nose crinkled in disdain. "I didn't like him very much."

Mandark could tell, but Dee Dee went on, barely allowing him time to ready his pen again.

"Ooh, he _really_ likes getting creative gifts. And you know, for a scientist, he really loves getting poems and stuff like that. Comic books, love letters, anything he can read that's still from the heart."

Her fingers never left her lips. "Oh, _oh_, he loves getting inventions or equipment to make his own inventions." She smiled with near motherly affection. "That's the little scientist coming out in him!"

Mandark had not realised how high-pitched Dee Dee's voice could get, but the more excited she became, the more the nearly sonic sound tried to pierce through his eardrums. He surprised himself by thinking her voice sounded a little annoying. He could only think those thoughts about Dexter, right?

The girl kept plowing through. "And it may seem like he hates you right now, but-don't tell him I told you-he's scared."

"Scared?"

Dee Dee got impatient. "Yes, scared. He got his heart ripped out, stepped on, tossed in the blender, and _then _left on the ground for to pick up the pieces himself. He really liked that guy."

Mandark considered his own plan to do something similar to the short genius and almost smirked in Dee Dee's presence, only managing to catch himself at the last possible second. He couldn't wait for the plan to succeed!

The front door opening preventing any further advice Dee Dee could have given him. Dexter entered the kitchen and glanced at Mandark before returning to his coat buttons. "Get out of my house," he said conversationally. Mandark silently seethed at how casually Dexter turned him out. He tried to convince himself it was because of the smaller's constant attitude and the way the plan would fail if he kept going at this rate.

His spirit soon revived as Dee Dee came to his rescue.

"Dexter, please," she scolded cheerfully. "Mandark's just visiting his favorite scientist!"

"Is he now? Too bad I wasn't here while he was 'visiting' me, eh?" Dexter asked in the same pleasant tone he had used earlier. He finished unbuttoning his coat and looked back up at Mandark in confusion. "Why are you still here?"

Dee Dee gasped. "Dexter!"

Dexter turned his expression on his sister. "What?"

"That's no way to treat a guest!" She smiled at the raven neither McPherson sibling were good friends with. "I'm sorry, Mandark."

"No, it's fine, I was just leaving." Mandark shrugged as he gathered his school bags.

"Good riddance. Don't let the door hit you on the way out!"

"No Mandark, don't go, I-"

The _click!_ of the front door cut off her plea. She turned glaring eyes at her brother to find the expression mirrored on his features.

"How could you invite him into our house, Dee Dee? I've told you before not to talk to strangers!"

"He's not a stranger, Dexter!"

"He's as good as! How well do you really know him?"

"...We've known him for years and he _likes you_! The least you can do is be civil to him."

"And allow him to trample over me? I wouldn't dare to _think_ of giving him the chance!"

Dee Dee's eyes welled as she realised just how much denial her brother was in. She burst into tears and ran up to her old room. Dexter sighed and watched her leave, wondering what could possibly come out of the McPhersons being nice to Mandark. And why did Dee Dee get so worked up over his love life?

The boy decided that sometimes, even a genius couldn't understand the complex inner workings of girls, much less his sister.

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

A/N: The next few chapters will contain the real wooing and the ultimate answer Dexter gives! I can't wait!

By the way, **(1)** I wasn't sure what candy they eat in Dexter's Laboratory and I wasn't in the mood to research it, so I just picked something I kinda liked and thought Dexter might also enjoy. Sorry if I offended anyone with my laziness! O_O"

Ciao for now! XD

~theflawintheplan


	4. Hate and Possible Love

"Dexter? Would you like to tell the class who was one of the primary leaders in America's first Great Awakening?"

Mandark and Dexter both snapped out of their various thoughts in surprise. Mr. Drummble looked at the redhead with a mixture of exasperation and dislike. He knew the redhead had not been paying attention and he did not know enough about history to save himself. So the self-satisfied teacher waited until the boy chose to admit this in front of the class. (If Dexter did, Drummble would be known by all the teachers in the region as the one instructor who managed to trip up the boy genius. Oh, he could not wait!)

"Um...wasn't that...?" Dexter frantically flipped through his notes, desperate to give the teacher a decent answer.

"Alright Mr. McPherson, how about this question? Who was the president that put down the Whiskey Rebellion?"

Dexter actually looked at Mandark for the answers to questions they had not even gone over yet, but the raven could not help if he wanted to.

"Can you tell me who the first president of the United States was, or is that too hard?" Everyone laughed, much to the redhead's chagrin. Everyone, he noticed, except for Mandark.

He knew that Mr. Drummble did not really want him to answer the questions any longer, so he kept silent. The teacher smirked with the knowledge of Dexter's embarassed submission and continued on with the AP US History lesson. When bell finally rang, Dexter was the first of his classmates out the door, with Mandark following close behind.

"Dexter! Dexter, wait up!"

Instantly reminded of the day before and of that negative, near-jealous feeling he had experienced, the redheaded genius quickened his pace. He just wanted to get to Chemistry (and forget about Mr. Drummble) as soon as possible. He didn't look back over his shoulder to see Mandark slow his steps in annoyance.

~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~

"So Dexter, how was your day?" Mrs. Pherson asked her son trudged through the door. Her mirror image, save for the gender and generation gap, ignored her as he continued toward the stairs. She frowned, but persisted in her light-hearted interrogation.

"Dee Dee tells me you're close to having another boyfriend. I, for one, love the idea for that Astronomonov boy being in a relationship with you. I think you both...suit...each other...?" She watched her son shot her a warning look before turning back in the direction of his room.

"Dexter?"

But a door quietly shutting was her only reply.

Dexter grabbed his pillow off his bed and screamed into it. He had picked up the habit early in the semester when he discovered that excessive knowledge in science and mathematics did not help someone in other AP classes. He released his anger into the fluffy muffler so that he could waste no time in his lab by dwelling upon school events. He lifted his head and stood slowly, taking in the view of his room.

In the years that the boy genius had grown up, the room surprisingly, or not so surprisingly depending on who one asked, had changed only very slightly. There were multiple posters commemorating Action Hank, the same salmon walls and cream carpet colour scheme, and a large comic book collection-and of course massive scientific volumes-on a gigantic, floor-to-ceiling, wall-to-wall bookshelf.

Dexter smiled and took comfort in the fact that at least his room was familiar in his changing, demanding surroundings. He walked toward the bookshelf to enter his laboratory when something tapped on his window. He turned to the sudden sound and discovered...a duck. Mandark's duck.

What was the duck's name? Reptar? (1) No, it was Quack...something-or-another. The boy stratched his ginger hair, wondering how the bird found his house in the first place. It had never been there before....Right? (2) Before he could get too distracted with figuring out how the duck found its way into his residence, he shook his head of the window. He hesitantly let the bird in and watched as it flapped noisily to his bedpost so it could survey the room, almost as if making sure it was in the correct room. Apparently satisfied with what it found, the duck fluttered to the spot on the floor in front of Dexter, waddling up the few steps it took to present a letter in its bill that the redhead had not noticed.

Blinking rapidly, Dexter plucked the envelope from the duck's bill and double checked the sender's name, disbelief etched on his features. Why would _Mandark_, of all people, send _Dexter_ a letter? It just did not make any sense.

Nevertheless, he opened the envelope and began to read the chicken scratch that was scrawled across the page.

_Dexter,_

_How can I convince you that I love you? The question haunts me every morning when I wake and every evening when I sleep. Flowers didn't work and a little birdie told me you don't even want to look at your favorite candy bar anymore._

Dee Dee, Dexter knew. She was the one that told Mandark he did not like 100 Grand. He continued to read, wondering what exactly the note was supposed to amount to.

_I'm left to wonder if there really is no hope for my heart._

_I don't expect you to respond-you probably won't even read this-but I wanted you to know my feelings for you haven't changed....Please burn this letter after you're finished with it, I can't bear this embarassment of knowing you don't feel the same._

_That's all,_

_Mandark_

Dexter blinked down at the scrawled words in his hands. _'That's all?'_ What was he- nine-years-old? And why was Mandark was trying so hard? Was he really that fixated on humiliating his ginger rival...? But, today in History, Mandark's expression did not _seem_ like the boy had wanted Dexter embarrassed. He would have laughed with all the others if that was the entire reason. So then what was Mandark trying to do...? Could it be possible Mandark truly had feelings for him?

He had not thought about it very long before his mother's voice floated into the room.

"Dexter! It's time for dinner!"

Even though her son had shunned her not ten minutes ago, her tone was light and joyous. Dexter groaned inwardly as he realised she was going to tell his father at dinner, if she not already.

He also considered the fact that now he could not work as much on his lab as he would like. He sighed, thinking about all the free time his classes and meals cut into. He quickly composed himself, stuffed paper in his lab coat and started downstairs.

Not entirely to his surprise, his entire family was all smiles as he entered the kitchen. He sat down next to his father and the blond man slapped him heartily on the back before withdrawing his arm and wincing in pain.

Mrs. McPherson looked at her husband in concern. "Is something wrong, Dear?"

"It's just the darndest thing, Honey. All day today my arm's been giving me trouble. I just don't understand it."

He smiled, but she frowned. "We should get that checked. Who knows if-"

The grin dropped a little, and steely eyes looked at Mrs. Pherson from across the table. "I'm not going to a hospital." Dexter's father stated firmly. "The last thing I need is some doctor getting you all so scared and worried about me you'd be willing to pay anything to 'fix' anything that's wrong with me."

"But you-"

"I'm not going." The smile was gone.

The family sat in silence for a few moments before Mr. McPherson sighed. "I'm sorry I'm so short today. I really should be focused on Dexter giving love chance." The two women smiled gratefully at the opportunity for a light-hearted subject. They all began playfully badgering Dexter about Mandark, eventually causing him to get up and rinse his plate off before heading up to his room.

And although he was not sure if he should, he allowed a smile to grace his features.

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

A/N: So, this chapter is really late considering it's been done for a little while now and I just wasn't driven enough to type it up. I'M SORRY I FAILED YOU ALL! :(

So you'll find out what's wrong with Mr. McPherson in the next chapter, I promise! XD Well, I don't know why I smiled since it's not really a good thing....Anyway, explanations!

(1) A shout out to the Rugrats! They're the reason Nickelodeon is so popular today.

(2) Is Dexter absolutely positive? Perhaps he should ask his lab monkey....XD

_**Anyway, please review and the next chapter will be out soon!**_

Sayonara!

~theflawintheplan


	5. The Second Step: Feeling Something More

It had been a few days since the incident with Mr. Drummble and Mandark studied Dexter's face from across the Biology classroom. If anything, Dexter's daydreaming had only gotten worse and Mandark wondered why this was. No, he more than wondered-he was a scientist, dammit! He was determined to find out. The bell rang and he was about to follow Dexter to lunch when Mrs. Garrett stopped him at her desk.

"What is wrong with Mr. McPherson? Do you know?" Mandark shook his head impatiently. Did anyone want him to succeed with his plan?

"No, why," the boy asked without really wanting an answer. All he really wanted as to finish up with his plan and move with his lab and his life. Was that really too much to ask? Mrs. Garrett shifted in her chair as if having an internal battle over whether or not to confide something in Mandark. This perked his interest and he minutely leaned forward to listen.

"Well, you seem to be his friend and I thought maybe you would know why he's...declining in his grades for this class." Mandark's eyebrows shot to his hairline. Dexter was failing his science classes now? His daydreaming really had gotten bad. Why _was_ this?

Still considering potential reasons-fantasising about his raven rival?-Mandark waved a half-hearted farewell to his teacher. "Thanks for telling me. I'll definitely ask him about it." And he was gone before the Biology instructor could regret what she had done.

~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~

Mandark narrowly dodged people in the hallways as he made his way to the cafeteria. What was wrong with Dexter? He fortunately got there without hurting himself or others. He spotted Dexter from the lunch line. The redhead was sitting by himself in a shadowy area of the lunch room, poking at his food. Mandark eased himself out of line without buying anything and plopped himself down next to Dexter...or at least, he attempted to. As soon as he hit the seat, his back hit the floor. It took him a moment to realise he had just fallen off of the table's bench. Dammit....He jumped up and instantly brushed himself off and sat down next to Dexter again. He cleared his throat loudly in an attempt to make the redhead forget what just happened, causing the latter to roll his eyes wearily.

"So how are you doing?" He asked, casually leaning his way into someone else's forgotten mashed potatoes. _'Shit!'_ He thought as he wiped his elbow with the cheap scratchy napkins the school provided. Nothing was going right!

"Why do you care?" Dexter snapped.

Mandark looked affronted. "What do you mean, 'why'? Because I-"

"Like me?" Dexter laughed hollowly and the sound made Mandark shiver. "Why would you? I'm a wannabe know-it-all and no one can stand me, I'm always mean to you, and I rejected you harshly, my teachers think I'm a troublemaker and I'm beginning to think they're right, and now-" his eyes widened and he cut himself off looking sick. Dexter's green face did not go unnoticed by Mandark and his concern worried him. He brushed it off as being perfectly in character.

"Are you okay?"

"What do you think?"

Mandark was happy when his veins flooded with beautiful anger. "Don't bite my head off just because I asked you a simple question!" He turned away, seething and trying to blow up the wall with his glares. Why did he even bother asking Dexter questions like that? It was not as if he cared about the ginger, it was not even as ifDexter liked him enough to _want_ Mandark to like him. They were supposed to be enemies and nothing more. If it was not for the humiliation and depression he wanted to bestow on the other scientist, he would not even be sitting next to him now. A light sniffle alerted him and he looked at Dexter in surprise.

The redhead held his face in his hands, his skin an even darker green than before. Mandark hesitated, watching the smaller boy with his own slightly sick reaction. However, when another shudder ran through Dexter's body, accompanied with a sob, Mandark jumped to comfort the boy.

He wrapped his arms around Dexter from behind and gently rocked the boy. He wondered at the feeling of guilt and sadness ripping across his chest every time another sob broke free from Dexter's throat. He rested his chin on top of Dexter's head and the redhead found the gesture oddly comforting. He nearly moved to snuggle closer to the other boy, but pure exhaustion stopped him. When you were already tired from the stresses of life, crying about it just made the exhaustion worse.

Mandark started to shush Dexter simply because he did not know what else to do. "Come on, you don't want to do this here. Not in front of these people." He was pleasantly surprised when Dexter began to calm down. He breathed out into the coppery locks he was _pretending_ to love, and Dexter discovered he rather liked being surrounded by Mandark's arms. It was not like the first time when the older boy had him pinned against the lockers, breathing icy air across his cheek. It felt comforting and secure. He started when Mandark suddenly spoke.

"Maybe you should go home. You don't look so hot." They both blushed at the poor choice of words. The raven expected Dexter to bite his head off at his last statement, so he was-pleasantly?-shocked when the younger of the two smiled gently as if thinking about something.

"Thank you for your concern Mandark, but I assure you I'm fine."

He left before Mandark could ask him about his grades, and the older of the two could not help but hope his stuck up rival was going to be alright.

~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~

But he would not be alright the next day. Mandark noticed the redhead's absence and their teachers did also. They shook their heads in quiet disdain for Dexter's inability to keep his head above the slime surface of grades. Mandark did not appreciate their unconcern. He knew something was wrong with Dexter because the Dexter he knew would be able to keep his grades up and then some. No, something was definitely up.

He refused to believe he cared.

He arrived home and had barely set down his school bag when his mother fluttered into the room.

"Good afternoon Susan," she greeted cheerfully. Mandark's mother had a wave that seemed to ride through the air, rising and falling like the tide. It was a melodic voice, one that made any listener joyous to listen to it; well, any listener except for her son. Mandark grimaced. Could she not see how much he hated his birth name? So he only grunted in reply, refusing to even look the woman in the face. After all, his mother did not deserve an answer if she could not find the will power to use his _real_ name.

She persisted in talking to her son, hoping he would eventually begin talking back to her. "So Susan, how was school today?" When she did not receive a reply, she cleared her throat nervously. "Great? Yeah, I thought so. You always do well."

Mandark rolled his eyes at his mother's theatrics. Why did she always have to put him through this every time they had a conversation? She always tried to make him feel like she loved him more than he loved her. He almost turned around to go straight upstairs when her next sentence stopped him in his tracks.

"Someone called for you while you were at school." She mumbled. When she saw that her son's interest in what she had to say had caused him to turn back around, she grew excited.

"Yes, they said they needed to talk to you. It was urgent, you could tell by their voice."

"Well, what did you say? What happened?" His voice held no anger, only a frenzied curiosity as to know what had been said. His mother's smile widened.

"I told him you weren't here and would have to take a message.'

Mandark blinked. What?

"What?"

"I told him you'd have to take a message." She did not seem to notice the annoyance flooding, drowning, her son's features, for the petite yet tall redhead ploughed on through her story. "Well, actually what I said was, 'Mandark's at school right now, but I can take him out if I need to.' The person on the other end said it was okay and that they'll call back later. They said they needed to talk to you in person at least."

"Yes, well their 'urgent' message is going to have to wait until tomorrow. I'm tired and I'm going upstairs to nap." Even though he was supposed to be doing homework instead, his mother only smiled and let him wander up to his room, something Mandark found even more infuriating about his parents. They had no disciplinary skills. But then, what could one expect from hippies?

However, he tried not to think about them as he slipped between the black, freezing sheets. He did not bother taking off his clothes because he knew he could always do that later when he woke up. So he allowed himself to drift into a dreamless sleep.

~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~

The phone rang later on, and Mandark groggily reached for it, sighing when he noticed it was midnight. He had slept right through dinner and now someone had woken him up in the middle of the night-_on an empty stomach_. They were asking for his wrath to rain down upon their puny, unintelligent heads.

"You do realise there's school tomorrow, right?" He asked whoever was on the other end. They did not answer the question.

"Hey Mandark...."

The addressed shot out of bed, feeling a weird sort of feeling in his stomach. He managed to wave it all off before he spoke again.

"Dexter? Why...? Who...?"

"I just needed to tell someone why I wasn't at school today and...well, you're the closest thing I have to a friend right now."

Mandark was taken aback at this. Mrs. Garrett had said something like that the day before, but it sounded different coming from Dexter's own mouth. He would have smirked at the success his plan was having if it were not for the nearly hopeless tone to Dexter's voice. Against his better judgement, he asked in his most soothing voice, "Hey, what's wrong?"

"My dad is in the hospital." Dexter did not lose the robotic quality in his voice that he was blessed with as a scientist. In fact, Mandark wondered if this were all a ruse, or if his phone was broken and only made Dexter's voice sound like he was indifferent. He could not, however, ignore the cold brick of lead diving down his esophogus into his stomach.

"What? Why? Are you guys okay?" Mandark tried to convince himself that he was only asking for Dee Dee, but some kind of restriction in his chest told him otherwise.

"We're all fine. Dad...he has an infection on his arm and since he has diabetes...." His voice faded away and Mandark snatched the phone from his ear so quickly, he scratched himself in the process of making sure he had not lost Dexter's call. When it showed as still connected, he pulled it back in time to hear the redhead's monotone disappear in favour of a sob. "The doctors are saying he's not going to make it."

Mandark's stomach now plunged to his ankles and he gulped. He had met Mr. Pherson before (people you knew were not supposed to die). He was not sure if he liked the idea of Dexter hurting over his father's possible demise.

"That's horrible!" He whispered. They did not speak for a while as Dexter quietly sobbed into the phone and Mandark spoke soft words of comfort to the boy he had come to think of as his enemy. Eventually Dexter's crying simpered down to soft whimpers.

"Um, Mandark?"

Butterflies pushed at the walls of Mandark's abdomen. He knew that this was it-Dexter was going to act like it never happened and he would go back to hating Mandark. After all, that was what Mandark would do in Dexter's situation. And he tried to convince himself that he was not upset at the thought.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

On-

"Can you come over to the hospital tomorrow? I'd really appreciate you being here with me....If it's no bother of course."

Dee Dee faded to the back of Mandark's mind as he imagined Dexter's small frame hugging the hospital bed in frightened sorrow. He could not even think of Dexter as pathetic when he saw that mental picture.

"Of course not. I'll be there as soon as I can."

He could practically see Dexter smiling through the phone. "Thank you Mandark. It really does mean a lot to me that you'll be here."

Mandark gasped yet the shocked sound went unheard as Dexter hung up his own cell phone. The raven stared at the tiny device in his hands for a while, replaying the conversation in his head. Namely his reaction when Dexter asked him to come to the hospital. His response had been so _genuine_....Why did he care so much about Dexter being happy?

The Son of Hippies was not sure he wanted to know the answer.


	6. Nothing is Ever Simple

A room with white walls was the first thing he saw when he woke up. He could not remember painting his bedroom that colour...It was much too bright in the room and he associated this with the fact that the curtains were open, allowing the sun to torture his eyes by lighting the bright walls to unnatural glow. There were bouquets of flowers to his left side and his son lay asleep to his right. He wondered for a moment how Dexter had gotten into his bedroom-_And where is my wife?_-without permission. However, this confusion only lasted for a moment before it all clicked. His eyes narrowed.

He tried to reprimand his son about forcing him to be here _and_ not being at school in the first place, but something was blocking his throat.

Tubes.

The blasted doctors had stuck tubes down his throat. His arm was supposed to be too weak to move, but he still attempted to raise it just enough to grab the tubes. Almost there...

"Mr. McPherson, you're awake!" A cheerful voice called from the doorway. It had to be an volunteer. A doctor had seen too much death to be joyous and the volunteers had seen just enough to keep them motivated about saving others.

Sure enough, a young girl stood in the doorway, a bright smile glued on her plastic cheeks. She looked to be in her mid to late teens and had dyed bleach blonde hair paired with orange skin and wore tight fitting scrubs over her hourglass shape. Mr. McPherson could not help but wrinkle his nose in digust as he thought she was not there to get a date, she was there to help people. Not that he needed any help. As she approached the bed, her voice took on an almost cooing quality Mr. McPherson did not appreciate.

"How are we doing today? Is your arm treating you any better?"

_'If it was don't you think I'd be out the front doors and back home?'_ The bitter thought crossed his mind in synchronisation with the dark shadow over his face. He did not feel any sympathy for her shocked and slightly hurt reaction. All she wanted was a slice of the money the staff would pick out of his back pocket. The scoundrels.

"Now Mr. McPherson, don't give me that look. You had your family worried sick the past couple of days. You wouldn't wake up for anybody." Full days without waking up? They must have been really worried. He gripped at the tubes and cast his gaze to Dexter. He wanted to speak to his son.

As if understanding his unspoken desire, the nurse-her name tag read "Mandy Russo"-smiled softly. "I'm sorry Mr. McPherson, but I can't let you talk to anyone until I know for sure if that's what Dr. James wants. After all, we would have to remove your breathing tubes in order for you do so." She made sure all the equipment was functioning properly-_'I wonder how much _that's_ going to cost me'_-before shuffling off to another victimised wallet in a hospital bed.

Mr. McPherson looked at his son who appeared to be in the middle of a bad dream. He kept his gaze on him as he drifted back to sleep, wondering why he was there, why he was so weak, and why this was shaping up to be such a bad day.

~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~

Mandark woke up with an uneasy feeling in his stomach. He felt like he needed to talk to Dexter, but he did not want to seek Dexter out at the hospital nor did he want to admit that there could be softer feelings than hatred for his redheaded counterpart. He went through his morning routine, desperate to concern himself with more normal things. Things that would put him in a Dexter-hating mood. It did not matter that last night he thought he felt sorry for the redhead and nearly felt bad that Dexter was in pain. It did not matter that he told the other boy he would be at the hospital that afternoon and acted like he was his friend and he cared about him. They were _not_ friends. They both knew this and Mandark had only been concerned about Dee Dee when he talked to Dexter last night. **(1)** He was sure of it-partly because he would not accept any other reason.

He walked to the bathroom and looked into the mirror over the sink. The boy who met his gaze had dishevelled black hair that had lost its lustre over the course of the night; **(2)** pale, sickly looking skin that had weaved pillow lines into his cheek fat as he tossed and turned over Dexter's phone call; and dead and hateful forest green eyes accented by nearly black bags. In short, he looked like a mess. He sighed and ran the water, preparing himself mentally and physically for extra time in the bathroom.

When he finally got downstairs, he quickly bypassed his annoying parents and his pest of a sister by grabbing a granola bar and heading out the door. He ran to school that morning, anxious to see if Dexter was going to be there that day. He knew why the boy would not be, but he hoped beyond the notion of a miracle that whatever was wrong with Dexter's father had been fixed since the night before.

The first class of the day was Chemistry. Miss Lawson watched the class file in like normal before she turned back to the board and began to write down the bellwork for that day. **(3)** Mandark was just beginning to wonder if he was the only one who was not all there when the young woman finally turned around with a somber expression in place.

"Class," she waited patiently for everyone to give her their full attention. "I want you all to know that Dexter is not here today because he is having family issues. I would rather that no one call or text to talk to him about it because this is a time he needs to spend in private with his family in the hospital." At her last sentence, the class erupted into a roaring sea of gossip but Mandark was not included.

Hearing what she had said made the boy's blood boil. How dare she assume that was what Dexter needed at the moment? She probably had not even talked to Dexter herself, only heard from the principal after Mrs. McPherson called in for her son or something. What an idiotic woman! Mandark wanted to call Dexter all the more now, if only to spite Miss Lawson and show her that the redheaded genius needed comfort. He could not help but glance at the only other person who someone could ever think of as Dexter's friend. Douglas Mordecai-Mandark thankfully did not talk much to him-looked at the teacher in alarm.

"Is he okay?"

Miss Lawson sighed. Mandark could tell this woman did not want to deal with any questions about this-she only wanted to get back to her lesson. She was a disgrace to all teachers who tried to hold themselves to a higher standard. "Mr. Mordecai, please don't ask me anything about him. I can't give you a lot of answers. The only thing I can tell you is that Dexter is fine. He's...fine.

"You know what?" She added after some thought. "If you are a geniune friend of his, you can probably call and offer support, but don't talk to him just because you're in the same class. It should be a bit more personal than that."

Mandark calmed down a little when he heard that. At least she was no longer trying to dictate who could and could not talk to Dexter today. He settled back in the chair and drifted away from the lecture, thinking about Dexter and how he was supposed to get a ride to the hospital since he was not allowed to drive-it was bad enough "we as your parents have to drive an environmentally homocidal vehicle."

~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~

To Mandark, the rest of day was a blur of teachers trying desperately to feign sympathy for Dexter. The only other thing he really noticed was Douglas on his cell phone the entire day, most likely trying to get through to Dexter to make sure he was okay. Mandark's eyes narrowed as he recalled each incident. What a wimp. Mandark made it home eventually, with no recollection of how he got there. He did not know whether he took the bus or walked...although, judging by the look of the open passenger door in his hand, he probably got a ride from his mother. **(4)** Speaking of...

"Mom! I need a ride to the hospital."

She looked at him in alarm, reminding him of Douglas's earlier expression toward Miss Lawson, but with burnt orange hair. "Are you okay?"

He gave her a confused look. "What...? Yeah Mom, I'm fine, it's Dexter. He-"

"Dexter? That McPherson boy? Is he okay?"

Mandark sighed, trying hard not to smack his own forehead in frustration. "He's fine...his father is in the hospital and Dexter wants me to be there with him this afternoon."

Her face softened. "Oh Susan, I'm sorry. Your father needs the car this afternoon. You're going to have to ask him."

"Well, is he in the house?"

"Yeah, he's in the living room, working on-" The front door's slam cut off the rest of her sentence. She gazed in dismay at the barrier between her and her children.

Mandark quickly found his dad brow deep in paperwork for his new "job." The boy had no idea what his father did for a living and he did not really care. He did not want to know what unsavoury things his father did when he left for "work." He doubted his father had the skills to get a job doing anything else.

"Dad, I need a ride to the hospital." Mandark said stiffly.

Without looking up, Windbear asked, "Are you okay?"

"No, I'm fine...Dexter's there and he-"

"That McPherson kid? Is he okay?"

"Yes Dad, he's fine!" Mandark all but screamed, dragging one hand through his bowl cut. "His dad is the one who's hurt and Dexter needs me to be there with him. Please Dad, just take me."

"You have your English and History homework done?"

"What...? Not yet, but he needs me!" Honestly, what did his parents not understand about that simple statement?

Mr. Astronominov finally looked at his son. "I understand you wanting to support your friend." He gave the issue some more thought. "Let me think about it and I'll probably take you when I'm going off to church rehearsal." That was the thing about Mandark's parents. Realising the world around them was changing into something horrible, they both got off the hippie drugs, found religion, and started to pay attention to their kids. They had yet to realise the way their children had that the gap between them and their kids was just too great to put a simple band-aid over and call it a bridge.

"Yeah, I guess that's okay." Mandark sighed. "What time would you be leaving?"

His father turned back to his work and did not look up again. "Within the next two hours, so at the very latest I'll leave at six."

Mandark nodded even though he knew his father could not see the gesture. Then he gathered his school things again and headed up to his room to wait on the head of the house's decision.

~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~

Bleary grey eyes slowly opened to the woman shaking his shoulder lightly.

"Wake up Dexter," her soft, motherly voice whispered tenderly. He peered up at her sleepily and felt sick from his mother's drastic change in appearance. She had bags under her dead, defeated army green eyes and her red hair was frazzled. She looked nothing like the woman who had raised him. Dexter could only wonder what his own face must look like.

His mother smiled tiredly. "Hey sweetie."

"Hello Mother," his voice cracked, sounding a lot like his old Russian accent. He was not surprised though. He had been really upset lately. "How is he? Did he wake up yet?"

Her lips collapsed into a tighter smile, pursed with repressed tears. "Well, he woke up earlier and we talked for a bit. We both agreed we wouldn't wake you. You need your sleep." Then, as if just remembering, she added, "He never took his eyes off you."

"Mom!" Dexter half-yelled, half-whined. His mother held up a silent hand that reprimand her son for her.

"Now Dexter, it's a scientific fact that teenagers need more sleep than children. **(5)** You of all people should be able to appreciate that."

"But Mom-"

"No buts, Dexter!" Her expression gradually bled into something resembling her old self. She embodied a strong maternal figure that would not accept her son's rude behaviour. "And what did I tell you about whining?"

"Sorry Mom," Dexter mumbled. His sigh was the last sound the white world heard for a few minutes as the pair only looked at their ailing family member, hoping that somehow their love might make him jump out the bed and scream at them for keeping him cooped in the hospital room in the first place. After a while, Dexter peered at his mother though slightly crooked glasses-_I really need to learn to not sleep in my glasses_. "Have you seen Mandark around here today? Has he arrived yet?" Judging by his mother's expression, she had forgotten Mandark was even supposed to show up.

"I'm sorry, Dexter. I completely forgot that I was supposed to be keeping an eye out for him. Though I haven't seen him around since I've been awake and I think if he likes you as much as Dee Dee leads me to believe, then he should have made himself known, right?" Almost as if she remembered after saying so, her smile reappeared, this time with geniune joy behind it. "That's right! You and Mandark are going out now!" She began to talk to no one in particular, or perhaps she was talking to the walls. "My Dexy and Mandark...true love."

Dexter seriously doubted it, but he did not want to burst the first happy thought his mother had allowed in a while. Besides, he could not stop the blush that spread across his cheeks. Maybe he did like Mandark. It definitely was _not _true love, though. Things like that, if they happened at all, **(6)** took time and care and did not stem from years of dislike. So...if Mandark asked him out again, what would he say?

Dexter did not know the answer, and he doubted this was the time to be asking the question.

The silence was broken once again as the heart rate monitor Mr. McPherson was strapped down to suddenly went crazy. Dexter and his mom perked in fear. Hundreds of doctors and nurses stampeded into the room, shouting out orders and standing between the three family members. Dexter's mom began keening, only pausing every so often to moan, "Oh God. Oh my God!"

Dexter tried to move through the crowd, desperate to get his father. "Wait, what's happening to my dad? Dad! Dad!" He did not have the time to notice his Russian accent coming back full force through his distress. One of the cold monsters turned and firmly pushed the boy away.

"You need to stay out of the way. We're trying to save your dad." Dexter blanched. He figured his dad was dying when he flatlined, but thinking it and actually hearing the clinical, robotic way it was said were two totally different things.

"What's wrong with him?" He screamed, hoping one of the robots would finally answer his question or at least offer a sympathetic smile, but his only response was the very walls repeating his cry.

"What's wrong with him?"

A/N: Okay, I got lazy with this chapter as well. My bad! XD Well that isn't entirely true, but I DID have AP homework to devote my time to, so...DON'T THINK I FORGOT YOU GUYS! To make it up to you, I'll explain myself AND leave you with a preview of the next chapter! XD

**(1)** You know, because Dee Dee _hadn't_ faded into the back of his mind the night before...

**(2)** Okay, Mandark is seriously a weirdo if he thinks his hair has ANY kind of lustre to it... Hehe

**(3)** I really based this scene and Miss Lawson off my Choir teacher when she found out my friend's dad was in the hospital. Don't hate her, but...whatever, do what you want because I hate Miss Lawson myself. XD

**(4)** He didn't even notice his mom giving him a ride home. That's a majorly f***ed up relationship...

**(5)** I forgot if this was actually scientifically proven, but I decided to leave it. If you guys want to tell me if I'm wrong or not, go ahead. I really don't mind constructive flames or criticism.

**(6)** That's a shoutout to my twin's love logic! XD

**Preview!**

_**Mandark saw Dexter at school the next day and he tried to ignore the way his chest clenched while simultaneously lifting in...joy? He smiled when he reached the smaller redhead.**_

_**"Dexter! How are you doing? I couldn't help but notice you were back and-"**_

_**The words choked Mandark as Dexter looked up into the taller boy's eyes. The image of sorrow mixed in with an angry and overall vulnerable expression in those framed grey orbs would stay with Mandark for weeks afterward.**_

**So there you go! I hope this makes up for my horrible procrastination and please don't forget to review! Please!** **^_~**

~theflawintheplan


	7. The Morning After

Mandark saw Dexter at school the next day and tried to ignore the way his chest clenched while simultaneously lifting in...relief? Joy? He smiled as he reached the small redhead.

"Dexter! How are you doing? I couldn't help but notice you were back and I was wondering if-"

The words choked Mandark as Dexter looked up into the taller boy's eyes. The image of sorrow mixed in with an angry and overall vulnerable expression in those framed grey orbs would stay with Mandark for weeks afterwards.

"Dexter?" Mandark blinked with apprehension. He did not like the pain in the other teen's eyes. "Dexter? Are you okay?" Dexter sighed, shifting his eyes back to the floor and he gave no further indication that he knew Mandark was even next to him. He shuffled into Biology. Mandark sighed also, despite himself. He did not know how to help Dexter and he wanted very much for the rival genius to talk to him. Walking into the classroom, he noticed that Douglas, sitting in his assigned seat next to Dexter, was upset as well. He was angry at seeing them together because Douglas had the potential to steal Dexter's heart and thereby ruin Mandark's plan. Mandark just hoped his feelings of helplessness had not shown as badly as they did on Douglas's face.

The thought that he should not_ want_ to help his scientific rival never crossed his mind.

~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~

"Alright class, classwork for today is reading the rest of Chapter Four: The First Five Presidents. For those who don't know, that's from page 86 all the way up to page 104. Read the chapter and create another page of your dialectical journal **(1) **as you go along. Whatever you don't finish is homework, along with these worksheets."

Mandark groaned internally as he wrote it all down. Mr. Drummble rarely assigned homework, but when he did, it was usually a shitload of classwork that was impossible to finish within the period and then that was added to homework he was already planning to assign in the first place. (Not to mention the fact that Miss Garrett and his AP English and AB Calculus teachers, Mr. Mussolini and Mrs. O'Neal, had already assigned homework as well.) The Astronominov could literally see the hands of the clock pouring away his leisure time for his beautiful lab. He hated AP classes.

Mr. Drummble fixed Dexter with a significant,_ fake_ look. "Dexter you won't have to do this particular assignment." Mandark's pencil broke in his hands.

"Is something wrong, Mr. Astronominov?" The history teacher asked with some surprise. He never had to directly address the raven before.

"No sir, nothing." **(2)** Mandark responded in his usual nasally tone. "I just gripped the pencil a little too tightly, that's all." Drummble seemed satisfied with the halfway truthful answer and settled his large frame back behind his desk, motioning for the students to start working on their assignment.

Mandark was seething. All day teachers had given Dexter pitying looks they _thought_ were appropriate for his situation. Didn't they know they were only causing more pain since the redhead knew they could care less about him besides? (Admittedly though, Miss Garrett seemed more sincere about her feelings on Dexter's past few days.) And besides, what Dexter most likely wanted most from the school was to blend in and be _normal_ to everyone else. Mandark knew Dexter's strong and independent personality probably did not get any pleasure from the pity he currently received from everyone he passed.

'_Shit, this could seriously mess with my plans for Dexter.'_ There was another emotion besides fear and anger that gnawed at Mandark, but he did not care to take the time to identify that one.

Drummble sent Dexter another look. This time, the act was so unbearable the little college wet dream finally stood up. "I'm going to sit in the nurse's office." He muttered, gathering his stuff quickly and quietly as to not disturb the class any more than he had to. The big-bodied teacher frowned and Mandark guessed he was the only one to see the pleased glimmer in Drummble's eyes as Dexter left the classroom.

The raven Hippie-son knew the tiny genius walked off to the nurse so his new safe haven would save him from prying and "crying" eyes. Mandark felt left out of Dexter's friendship as he sat in a seemingly vast sea of loneliness...

"Hello Dexter, how are you today?" The scientist's eyes shifted upwards to meet the gaze of Mr. Sabutaso as the other came down the hall to greet him.

"Hello, Mr. Sabutaso."

As the other drew closer to Dexter, his smile grew. "How are you doing lately?"

Dexter tried to keep his voice light hoping that, in turn, his principal would limit their conversation to a mere superficial greeting only meant to acknowledge another person for your own well-being. "I am doing just fine." He knew the prime minister of the school (for the school board was Parliament) was an extremely busy man. However, that trait seemed to be lacking in Mr. Sabutaso's schedule today, the irony bringing a colour of anger and fear to Dexter's face.

"I'm so proud of your sister. She got into Yardmore, **(3)** didn't she?" Dexter would have been blinded if not for the barely brushed teeth bared in an unwanted smile.

"Yes, she is visiting us on holiday at the moment. But she is here only for another week or so. The school keeps her very busy." Dexter added hurriedly, hoping the man would not get the idea of dropping by to visit DeeDee. It worked—Mr. Sabustaso's shoulders slumped a slight fraction.

"Well," he sighed, "I should only expect that from the best fine arts university in the nation."

"Yes, it is a fine school."

"How does she like it so far? I mean, it's only her freshman year there, but..."

"I have not spoken to her about it." Dexter's tone was growing more clipped with every sentence he forced. His mask would slip soon and knowing Sabutaso as an avid fine arts and athletics supporter, the conversation would not end for a while. Mr. Sabutaso blinked. He was more surprised by the return of Dexter's eastern accent (knowing that occurred when the boy was upset) than the fact that Dexter just snapped at him rather rudely.

"What's wrong, Dexter?"

That one question had Dexter's façade officially broken.

"It is my father," he blurted. He could care less about showing weakness in front of the school's faculty and students now.

The principal's eyebrows rose in more shock. "I thought your mother said—"

"He nearly died last night!" Dexter cried. "They said he made it through, but...but his vital signs are still unstable." His voice cracked under the weight of pent-up frustration, fear, and childish anger and confusion. Mr. Sabutaso looked around the hallway. He knew the classes would dismiss soon and the kids would flood out. He also figured Dexter did not want to be a sideshow attraction.

"Hey, why don't you sit in my office for the rest of the day? I'll pick up any homework you have in your classes for you."

Dexter's small, yet grateful smile was enough to make Mr. Sabutaso's grin make a full comeback.

~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~

_Brring!_

Finally—_finally_—he final dismissal bell rang, derailing the Astronominov's train of thoughts about possible ways to get Dexter to trust him enough to go out with him. Mandark shot out of his AP Physics seat into the crowded throng of idiotic, future has-beens. He looked around desperately for Dexter, wanting to walk the boy home and ask him how his father—and DeeDee—were doing. He could not have his plans fall apart or his crush...well, crushed.

He went through the classes Dexter had missed that afternoon—AP Chemistry, AP Psychology, and AP Physics. However, by the time he got to the first two classrooms, they were both dark and the doors were locked. Jogging back to AP Physics, he stopped Dr. Johnson before the teacher could fully close the door for the meeting the science teachers were holding after school.

"Hey, Dr. Johnson, do you know where Dexter is? Have you seen him?"

Dr. Johnson was a large man with a full head of messy raven hair and one shocking streak of white that framed his left temple, and a soft voice that always seemed annoyed. Now he glanced longingly into his classroom, wanting to be protected by discussion with his fellow scientists. "Mr. McPherson?" He inquired, directing his ice-blue gaze back to Mandark.

Mandark raised his eyebrows in hope. Perhaps he could finally talk to Dexter now...

"You just missed him."

The teen's jaw went quite unflatteringly slack. "What? Are you serious?" The teacher tried to shut the door but, once again, the younger male stopped him. "What do you mean I 'just missed him?' " He growled, glowering at the idea of being too little too late _again_.

Dr. Johnson sighed. "He was here with Mr. Sabutaso to pick up his homework, and then he was quickly escorted to the front of the building so that on the way, other students _wouldn't bother him_. He left maybe...a minute ago." Mandark knew the teacher was talking more about himself than the small redhead they were supposed to be discussing. However, he could not bring himself to care as he ran toward the front doors of the school.

His darkly coloured eyes searched the grounds for his rival, but it appeared Dexter was already gone. Further confirmation came in the image of Douglas looking around as well before he caught Mandark's eye. He shook his head sadly in response to the Astronominov's unspoken question. Mandark slumped against the brick wall beside the glass entrance doors. He tilted his head back to rest against the red as well as he let out a long sigh.

He briefly thought about visiting Dexter at the boy's home, but instantly decided against it. He felt as though Dexter were desperate to avoid him and Douglas and for the sake of the raven's sanity, he hoped Dexter would tell him why soon.

~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~

At home, Mandark went through his normal routine (homework; working in his lab; eating dinner with his—truly annoying—family; his chore of washing the dishes, the stove, and the counters; finally going back into the laboratory before going off to bed) completely on autopilot.

As he was lying in bed, the fog in Mandark's brain finally lifted and he had a chance to think about that day he should have gone to the hospital. Of course, his dad either maliciously or unintentionally "forgot" to tell Mandark his decision, instead leaving the boy at the house as he took the only car. At the same time, however, he felt another emotion. He was not accustomed to experiencing it, so it took a couple of minutes to come up with a name for it.

_Guilt._

Guilt over having a perfectly healthy father that he did not appreciate, while Dexter was worried sick about his dad's fluctuating health. Or, at least, that was what Mandark hoped was wrong, rather than the other alternative that could have caused Dexter's mood today... But he did not want to even consider _that_ possibility.

He lay in his bed for a while longer, locked in a cage of internal debate. Several minutes later (actually, it was seven minutes and twenty-six seconds later—Mandark counted), then he made up his mind. He carefully pulled the covers down, as if he wanted his actions to be carried out in a specific way. He sat up and swung his legs over the bed, silently padding down the hall. Mandark felt possessed by another person's brain as he opened his parents' bedroom door. All three persons stared at each other for 186 awkward ticks of the Jesus clock crucified onto the adjacent wall. Finally—_finally_—their son spoke to them after his long silence.

"Goodnight, Mom. Goodnight, Dad."

The parents exchanged worried glances. OceanBird cleared her throat. "Um, Susan? Is something wrong, sweetie?" To the adults' further surprise, Mandark's mouth lifted a bit awkwardly at the corners. "Nothing, just want you both to know..." he blushed and suddenly found he could not look the Hippies, "...that I, you know, I...love you." Before he could see or hear their shocked yet affectionate responses, Mandark hid his parents and their reactions behind the (now closed) bedroom door. He went back to his own bed and silently lifted a slender finger to his mouth. He traced his lips, shocked at being only half-surprised for the twist of lips he found there.

What exactly was Dexter doing to him...?

...And why did it make him smile?

A/N: Well, I died from homework overload. Luckily for me, I get (somewhat of) a break from my studies for Spring Break, at least enough time to upload a few chapters of my stories. Also, sorry that this chapter is so short, I just wanted it to end there. I hope it wasn't too rushed…. Please accept the preview as a token of my apologies. But first, explanations galore! XD

**(1)** Something my AP History teacher had us do. Basically it's a set of two-column notes, with the first column as a series of one-sentence summaries of the paragraphs read for the homework. The second column is a series of your opinions and/or connections to those one-sentence main ideas.

**(2)** HARRY POTTER RULES! : P

**(3)** DeeDee's ivy-league dance-focused college (I know, who'd've thunk?). A combination of the names Yale, Harvard, Dartmouth.

**Preview!**

"_**I think this relationship is going to benefit him in the long run. Don't you think, Susan?" He flinched slightly at the name, but nevertheless smiled at his parents in reply. They both grinned in delight before talking again about Mandark's potential relationship, and Olga was the only one who had caught the malicious gleam in Mandark's wolfish smile.**_

_**She sat back into her chair and pouted in confusion. Why was Mandark grinning evilly about the idea of going out with Dexter? She did not like that she did not know the answer to that question. **_**'Secrets, secrets are no fun,**_** Susan**_**….' **_**She thought to herself.**_

_**Lalavava decided then and there that she would find out what her stupid older brother was up to.**_

Thanks for following the story so far, it really means a lot to me! XD

~theflawintheplan


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